


Family Matters

by AngieStilinski



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen, Pre-Season 1, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Stilinski Family Feels, Tag to 6x03
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-04
Updated: 2016-12-04
Packaged: 2018-09-06 09:47:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8745505
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AngieStilinski/pseuds/AngieStilinski
Summary: Tag to 6x03 Sundowning - Stiles wants to know why he was named the way he is. An eavesdropping of a phone conversation, had the answers to his questions. However, he finds out he has a grandfather he never met. (Takes place before Pilot 1x01 of Teen Wolf)





	

**Author's Note:**

> 6x03 had me in tears after learning about the Sheriff's past. And Jeff finally told us the real name of the Sheriff! Noah! This is basically what happened if Stiles met his grandfather for the first time and what would happen.

  
Stiles always wondered why his mom named him this way. It was an unusual name that has everyone glance at him with confusion when they first meet him, and the looks always stick with him. If Stiles were another person, he'd look at them the same way too without thinking twice. Maybe it was instinct.

When his mother first taught him his real name, it was a big tongue twister. He couldn't pronounce his name until the age of six, so a part of him fell in love with the nickname 'Stiles'. Meeting Scott when he was four, however, never questioned his strange nickname and only smiled, asking Stiles if he wanted to play with him on the playground. And that kickstarted their beautiful friendship.

But then Stiles's mother died, leaving both Stilinski's broken and lonely in a way. It took months for Stiles to get over her death, but the Sheriff, years. At Claudia's funeral, he remembers sitting next to his father, having a good view of the coffin when he asked, "Is there anyone else? Are we the only ones left?"

His dad looks at him for a long time at the question, Stiles might've considered him not to reply but then he said, "No. You have a grandfather."

And that sentence alone, shocked him to the core. Never had he been told of another one in the family. But Stiles decided to let it go, for it was a day of mourning.

Stiles doesn't know what got him to think about that day and the words his dad said, years later. Perhaps it was eavesdropping a phone conversation with his dad of a man named Alias Stilinski. Stiles couldn't help but hear no remorse in the sheriff's voice of the news about his grandfather's illness of dementia. His dad simply lets the words slide like if he was hearing about a man he only met one day, who passed away.

He finds himself thinking about it in bed overnight, wondering why his dad had no remorse or sadness, or the fact that Alias was never mentioned since the day of Claudia's funeral. It was then that he decided, he would finally ask his dad about his grandfather.

He quietly makes his way down the stairs next morning, walking with hangs fidgeting in front of him. His anxiety is strong today, knowing how much his dad hates to talk about the past. He knows his dad will be furious when he finds out Stiles had been eavesdropping yet again.

"Hey, Dad?"

Stiles inches his way slowly to the kitchen where his dad sat at the table with a cup of coffee and reading files of old cases. The sheriff looks up when Stiles walks in, taking notice of the hesitance in his son's voice.

"What's up?"

Stiles isn't sure how to start off the conversation and could feel the uneasiness drift between the two Stilinski's like a cold wind chill. He starts off in a quiet voice, "Remember Mom's funeral..."

The moment Stiles said the first few words, the sheriff's face dropped with sadness. Stiles's heart ached with guilt. "Um, I asked you if we had anyone else in the family. A-and you said that I had a grandfather?"

Stiles watches closely as the memory clicks in his dad's mind and raises his eyebrows in surprise. Stiles continues, "Why have I never met him? Or heard of him?"

The sheriff is hesitant in replying, closing the file he was looking at to physically look at his son. "What made you think of this?"

Stiles swallows a lump down his throat, looking down at his fidgeting hands. "I...may have overheard you last night. All I know is that his name is Alias and he's sick, isn't he?"

The sheriff sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. "Yeah. He is."

It's silent for about a minute until Stiles breaks it. "When am I ever gonna see him?"

His dad's face changes to frustration as he stands up from his chair to walk closer to Stiles. "You're not because you'll only be wasting your time."

Stiles's eyebrows pinch together. "I don't understand. He's my grandpa, I'm sure he'll want to see his only grandson -"

"He's not going to say anything to you! Whatever you're looking for, Stiles, he's not going to help."

"Why not?"

"Damnit, Stiles! Just you can't okay? He lives in a retirement home two towns over, he's practically brain dead."

Stiles clamps his mouth shut and looks away again. His dad sighs and face softens, placing a gentle hand on Stiles's shoulder. "Look, I know you want to reach out to other family especially after your mother..." he pauses, failing to finish his sentence. "But Alias is too sick for visitors. You don't know if he'll lose control."

"Because of the dementia." It wasn't a question.

His dad nods. "Come here." He pulls Stiles to his chest to embrace him, running a hand through his son's buzzcut hair. Stiles lets his chin fall on his dad's shoulder. They stand in the embrace for a while until his dad finally pulls away, giving him a small smile. "I'm gonna head to work. You think you'll be alright on your own?"

Stiles rolls his eyes. "Dad, I'm almost sixteen. I can take care of myself, I'll be fine."

The sheriff gives him a humorous glare and pats his son's shoulder before heading out. Stiles stands in the kitchen quietly for a couple of minutes, not really sure why he hasn't moved. He thinks back to what his dad said about Alias, the dementia and him losing control...Stiles just couldn't picture it.

He's never broken a promise before, but he can't just take his thing sitting down. He had to meet his grandfather.

His dad can ground him later.

~~<>~~

Stiles drives up in his jeep to the GoodWater Retirement Home, that thanks to his dad was just two towns over from Beacon Hills. His heart thuds in his chest, overthinking how wrong all this was. But screw it, he was already here.

Stiles steps out of the jeep and goes inside the clinic to see an orderly at the front desk. The man smiles at him, "May I help you?"

"Yeah, hi, I'm looking for Alias Stilinski..."

The man frowns. "And you are?"

"Stiles. I'm his grandson. I'm uh, just here to visit."

The man gives a small pause. "I'm afraid you have to have a parent or guardian with you, unless you're older than the age of eighteen-"

"I am eighteen." Stiles lies. The man's frown deepens. "I-I know I always get from people that I never look my age, but I guess it comes from good genes."

Stiles thinks the man will never let him through but the orderly instead sighs. "Right this way."

Stiles's face brightens and follows on the man's tail to a lonely room at the end of the hall. The door is shut, but before the orderly opens it, he looks pointedly at Stiles. "Just to let you know, your grandfather most likely won't say anything than one or two words. I believe you've heard the news of his dementia?"

Stiles nods and the man continues. "I haven't given him his medication just yet so I'm afraid your visit can only be about thirty minutes tops."

The man opens the door before Stiles can reply and walks in, with Stiles hesitantly following. A figure in the far corner of the room is the first thing Stiles sees. The old man is looking down at the table he sits at with a solemn yet blank look in his eyes and in a way Stiles thinks his dad looks just like him.

Alias doesn't look up when they enter and Stiles finds himself edging toward him slowly. The orderly that led him in left quietly, leaving the two Stilinski's alone.

Stiles gulps and his heart thuds in his chest when he reaches a close enough distance where Alias finally looks up at him. His hazel eyes remind Stiles so much of his dad, that he desperately wishes he was here with him.

"Alias?" Stiles says lowly, standing a good few feet away from where his grandfather sits.

The man looks up with slight confusion in his gaze. "Is it time for my medicine?"

Stiles heart aches at the question and realizes how hard the dementia must have hit him. As a reply he shakes his head, "No. Um...d-do you know who I am?"

Alias's eyebrows pinch together looking Stiles up and down like he's actually examining him. "Should I?"

 _Yes. You should._ He wants to say but he only moves to sit in the chair by Alias who leans back slightly at the stranger's closeness.

"I, um. My name is Stiles. Stiles Stilinski-"

"Stiles?" Alias asks softly, looking away from him towards the window.

Stiles's heart skips a beat. "So you know me?"

Alias frowns and then gives a tiny smile. "It was my name...in the Army."

Stiles narrows his eyes at him. "A-army?"

"World War II. They were the best years of my life..."

It's then that Stiles realizes the history behind his family. He smiles softly. "Sounds amazing. Uh, Alias? Your son..."

At the mention of the sheriff, Alias turns back to look at him.

"Your son, is my dad. I'm your grandson, Alias..."

Alias's frown deepens as if he can't process the words. "My...grandson?"

Stiles nods frantically, trying to make him understand, to snap out of the daze. "Yes. I-I know we've never met but...I just wanted to finally see you-"

"But...my son's birthday is in a week."

Stiles's heart drops and his face falls. "Alias, what year is it?"

Alias's gaze looked knowing. "1976."

Stiles feels a weight in his chest and closes his eyes in frustration. "No Alias, it's 2011. My name is Stiles, I'm your grandson."

"I don't have a grandson!" Alias suddenly yells, slamming a fist on the table making Stiles jump and stand from the chair.

"Alias-"

"No! Get out, I don't want to see you anymore!" Alias screams, finally losing his wits. Alias stands from his own seat, pacing the floor throwing angry gestures in the air and growling under his breath.

Stiles considers on leaving and not coming back until a pile of papers on the table catch his eyes. He walks up to it and the idea finally clicks. "Alias. Alias, look."

He pulls Alias gently back in his seat and puts the papers in front of him. "Look at the equations. Look, it's binomial probability. What's b?"

Alias is finally pulled from his stupor and looks closely at the paper. "Probability, uh...success?"

Stiles nods and smiles, pointing to the next equation. "Right! And that means n minus k is?"

"Number of trials...minus the number of successes!" Alias beamed.

Stiles laughed, giving a small achieving fist bump in the air. "Alright, how about this one?"

"That's uh, conditional probability."

"Great job! Okay...let's find another one."

Stiles shuffles through the papers as Alias looks away again. Stiles shuffles more for a moment before finding another equation sheet and placing it on top of the pile. He looks at Alias who is still looking at the same sheet with a frown in his eyes. "Alias..."

"That's Mr. Stilinski to you." Alias firmly speaks.

Stiles looks up with a whip of his head at the tone with a widened eyes.

"What do you think you're doing here?" Alias snarls.

"I-I'm your grandson..." Stiles whispers.

"I know good well who you are." Alias places the paper in his hands on the table and stands up again from his seat.

"Y-you do?"

"Oh yes. Your father, he tried to keep you a secret from me. You and that dead mother of yours."

Stiles's heart stopped at Alias's words. Stiles stands from his chair, keeping good distance from him.

"I bet your mother is turning over in her grave from embarrassment right now for your father-"

"Don't talk about him like that." Stiles shouts, at least he tries to but the words come out as a mumble. "Or her."

Alias chuckles. "Why are you here, _Stiles_? You disobey your father? Because I'm sure he wouldn't want you to see me, unless he doesn't know you're here. Am I right?"

Stiles stays silent, clenching his fists at his side in anger.

"You disobey your father just like he disobeyed me. Go on, go back and run back to daddy and tell him I told you how much a coward he is."

"My dad is not a coward!" Stiles yells, taking tentative steps towards Alias. "He twice the man you'll ever be."

"Enough!"

Stiles whips around to see his dad and the orderly at the front desk standing at the door. The sheriff looks pissed out of his mind. "Stiles, leave. Now!"

Stiles looks back at Alias with a glare before walking away, gently pushing past his father and out of the room. However he stays in the hall, looking back in the room to see what goes on.

His dad glares at his own father before turning to follow Stiles when Alias starts yelling behind him, "That's right, Noah! Run! Go back to your dead wife and that loser son of yours!"

Stiles feels tears gather in his eyes before quickly blinking them away when his dad finally leaves the room. He stops in front of him with an angry look on his face. "I told you not to come here."

Stiles never got the chance to reply or apologize when his dad pushes past him, walking down the hall. It takes Stiles a moment before following behind him.

~~<>~~

The drive home is silent and the intensity in the car was high. Stiles wanted to say something, anything, but he knows his dad and that he needs to cool down before he apologizes.

He felt so stupid as to think things would change if he met his grandfather. But nothing did. Alias was an asshole and Stiles should have seen it coming.

When they get home Stiles goes straight to his room without a word and closes his door. He lays on the bed exhausted for what felt like hours.

He knows the truth and to why his dad didn't want him seeing Alias. He doesn't understand what could've made him that way.

A knock on the door startled him from his thoughts and his door opens to his father. He seemed to have cooled down a bit and gives him a small smile. "Can I come in?"

Stiles nods silently, looking at the floor as his dad comes to sit beside him on the bed.

It's quiet between them for a few minutes, until Stiles finally speaks. "Dad, I'm sorry. I-I should've listened to you and-"

"No, no, it's okay." His dad replies softly. "I know why you did it. And I'm glad you did."

Stiles pinches his eyebrows together in confusion as the sheriff continues. "I should've been clearer to who he is. I guess a part didn't want me to have to uh, admit it."

Stiles watches closely at his dad pulls the collar of his shirt to reveal an old scar on his left shoulder. Stiles stares at it with widened eyes.

"This is my dad, Stiles. He pushed me on a glass table, going after my mom."

Stiles's heart stops at his words. Pain and empathy show on his face as he fights back tears.

"There's tiny pieces of glass in there. The doctor told my mother they'll probably be in there the rest of my life, working their way out. A small price to pay from keeping him away from her."

Stiles let a single tear fall, looking away from the scar and back to his hands. "I-I'm sorry, Dad. I didn't...I didn't know."

His dad shakes his head and pulls Stiles into a hug for the second time that day, but this time his son sobs into his shirt. "Hey, hey, kiddo. It's not your fault. It's mine okay? I should've told you a long time ago. I shouldn't have kept him from you."

Stiles sniffs. "I don't know. I guess I just haven't been over mom's death yet, and I wanted someone to fill that gap."

He feels his dad sigh. "I know. But you still got me, you hear me, Stiles? You still got me."

And Stiles believed every word.


End file.
